One Guy in a Unitard
by nutellaismydrug
Summary: Kurt Hummel was a relatively normal boy, until he strayed from his tour group in a high-tech laboratory and got bitten by a crossbred spider, leaving him with some unusual side effects. Glee/Spiderman crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt gazed out of the window in his Aunt and Uncle's front door, unable to keep from thinking of the final time he saw his parents, walking down those porch steps in the rain.

His dad had been working normally, when suddenly; he had received an urgent call to travel to some far-off place.

_"Daddy, where are you going?" Kurt asked as watched his mother and father hurriedly pack their suitcases, his blue-grey eyes wide and innocent._

_"We have to go away for a while for work, okay, sweetie?" Kurt's mother had replied. "You're going to stay with your Aunt and Uncle in New York for a few months while we're gone!"_

_Kurt's parents had been very impressed with how well Kurt was handling the situation so far, but he had apparently been bottling up his emotions for when the time came to say goodbye to his parents._

_"Okay, buddy, we'll see you in a couple of months, alright?" His father had said, crouching down and putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders._

_When he saw Kurt's eyes watering profusely, he leaned a bit closer to his son._

_"Just remember all those stories I told you about Uncle Burt, if he tries to be mean, just unleash one of those on him," He had laughed, pulling Kurt in for a hug._

_Kurt's mother had crouched down to give Kurt a hug and numerous kisses, tearfully trying to give Kurt's aunt the specifics of taking care of him._

_Kurt's father had stood beside the door, his jaw set._

_"Come on, Helena, we can't miss our flight," He had sighed, reaching out a hand._

_"Just coming, Dennis," She said. "It's just a couple of months, sweetie," She had muttered to Kurt, with a final kiss to his forehead._

_Kurt had walked over to the front door, looking past his own tearful reflection to where his parents were getting into their car, without so much as a glance back at the house._

Consequently, that 'few months' had turned into 'the rest of Kurt's life so far'. Kurt's parents had died on the trip, meaning that he had lived in New York with his Uncle Burt and Aunt Carole as his guardians.

School was…alright. Kurt had come to be accepted, to say the least, in the unforgiving high school. He had had a brief stint as a football player, which had boosted his popularity, and a cheerleader, which had just made everyone afraid of him, but now he was just Kurt.

He didn't have any close friends to speak of, but he was relied upon as the unofficial photographer for most of the school clubs and committees, so he was widely known throughout the school.

Even so, being openly gay, Kurt couldn't expect to be completely accepted and loved across the school.

The jocks often made not-so-subtle digs at Kurt, usually just throwing basketballs at him, but sometimes going so far as throwing him in the dumpster.

Kurt usually just dealt with it. It wasn't really so bad; as long as he got out of the dumpster quickly, he could avoid smelling of banana peel and rotting school lunches for the rest of the day.

What Kurt didn't stand for, however, was other people being ridiculed. Which is why he decided to interfere when he saw Noah Puckerman dangling a freshman by his feet, forcing his face into the bland-looking school lunch.

"Eat your vegetables, loser!" Noah – or Puck, as he preferred to be known – yelled as he practically threw the boy towards the table.

"Noah, leave him alone," Kurt called over the chant of 'eat it, eat it' the assembled students had started.

"Firstly, it's Puck, secondly, take a picture, dude," Puck said, gesturing towards Kurt's camera as he swung the freshman rapidly from left to right.

"That's disgusting," Kurt said, shaking his head. "Put him down."

Puck looked at Kurt indignantly for a moment, before literally throwing the freshman to the floor.

Kurt was about to walk away, but Puck's fist was suddenly colliding with his cheekbone, and then his stomach. He fell to the floor, winded, as the students surrounding them cheered, obviously desperate to see a fight.

Kurt stood up, clutching his stomach.

"Don't get up, Hummel," Puck threatened, kicking Kurt hard in the crotch. Kurt fell to the floor again, groaning in agony.

Nodding at Kurt's curled-up form on the floor, Puck walked away, and the crowd's dispersal followed.

As Kurt tried to will the pain away, he noticed that one person hadn't left. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was Blaine Anderson.  
Blaine Anderson who was famous in the school for being devastatingly handsome, ridiculously clever and…gay.

Blaine was one of those people that everyone liked, no matter which clique they belonged to, or where they lived, or what subjects they studied.

Before Kurt could register it, though, Blaine was gone.

* * *

Kurt stepped into his next class just in the nick of time. He staggered to his seat, before folding his arms on the desk and leaning his chin on them. He closed his eyes and was about to doze off, when something caught his attention.

A voice as smooth as honey, at close proximity.

"That was really brave, what you did back there," Came the unmistakable voice of Blaine Anderson.

Kurt just stared at him with wide eyes.

"What's your name?" Blaine asked, his honey-coloured eyes seeming to make Kurt warmer than he had been before. Everything about Blaine just seemed as sweet as honey.

"You…don't know my name?" Kurt asked. He felt himself sway slightly in his chair.

"Of course I know your name, I just want to see if you remember it," Blaine said matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow. "In case you have a concussion."

"Oh…well, it's Kurt," Kurt said, smiling stupidly at Blaine. Blaine was still looking at him expectantly with his glowing puppy-dog eyes. "Kurt Hummel."

* * *

Later that evening, Burt appeared in the kitchen with a damp-bottomed box in his hands. He placed it on the table, much to Carole's dismay.

"Get that thing off of my kitchen table, Burt Hummel," She said sternly, brandishing her spaghetti scoop at him.

"It's stuff from your old house, the basement is flooded and I didn't want them to get ruined!" Burt had said, picking the box up nonetheless and putting it on the floor. "Kurt, come and give me a hand with this flood."

Kurt had followed his Uncle down to the basement, where they had discussed the problem.

"Well, there's too much water for it to be the washing machine, so it's probably the central heating," Kurt had said, folding his arms.

Burt had simply nodded. "Okay, buddy, just save anything else that you want to," Burt had said, squeezing Kurt's shoulder and walking back up the stairs, wiping his wet feet on the carpet.

Kurt had knelt down beside the various boxes that were stowed in the basement, but an familiar-looking, aged, leather briefcase caught his eye. He picked it up to see that the initials 'DH' were engraved into the leather. He carried it back upstairs to the kitchen, where he put it on the table.

Kurt cleared his throat.

Upon seeing him, Burt looked somewhat uncomfortable and Carole looked tearful all of a sudden.

"That was your dad's," Burt sighed.

Kurt could only nod. He opened the bag and got out a newspaper clipping. It was a torn photo of his father and another man.

"Who's that?" Kurt asked, holding up the photo.

"I…don't know, one of your dad's old workmates," Burt said, leaning against the table.

"Kurt, get that thing off the table, it's probably filthy," Carole said, wiping her eyes.

Kurt picked up the briefcase and carried it upstairs to his bedroom. He locked the door.

When he opened the bag, the first thing he found was a pair of his father's glasses. He slid them on, and began inspecting the bag for any hidden sections. He found one when he ran his finger along the inside lining, where there was a concealed zip.

He slid it open to reveal a file marked with 'Private'.

Despite this, Kurt opened the file to reveal biological profiles and a lot of information about the 'Decay Rate Algorithm'.

Kurt stood up and googled the term, but found nothing that was of any use to him.

When there was a knock on the door, Kurt hastily closed the internet window that was opened on his computer, and shoved the private file back into the briefcase.

"Come in!" He called.

Burt stepped into the room. "Jesus, you look just like him," He had said, grabbing the doorframe for support.

"Yeah…" Kurt had chuckled, pushing the glasses further up his nose.

"Paul Underbridge." Burt said simply. When Kurt just looked at him for a moment, Burt explained further. "That's the man in the photo with your dad."

Kurt nodded in understanding.

"They worked together on some secretive project, they wouldn't tell me anything," Burt had laughed, rolling his eyes.

Kurt just smiled.

"You know he would be so proud of you if he were still here?" Burt asked, stepping over and squeezing Kurt's shoulder.

"I know," Kurt said, grinning and running a hand through his hair.

"I'm proud of you," Burt said, mussing Kurt's hair. After a moment of silence, Burt gestured towards Kurt's laptop screen, where his desktop was displayed. "He looks nice!" He chuckled.

Kurt had changed his desktop to a photo of Blaine, zoomed in from the photo he had on his computer of the Debating Team.

"Are you two going out?" Burt asked, an eyebrow raised.

"No, Uncle Burt, I totally would tell you," Kurt laughed, trying to stop the blush that spread across his cheeks.

"Good," Burt sighed, leaning against Kurt's chair. "Carole will probably castrate the both of us if we don't go down to dinner now."

"Well we can't have that, I haven't dated anyone yet!" Kurt said cheekily. Burt gently hit Kurt's shoulder, chuckling at his nephew.

* * *

**A/N**

****Whee, Spiderman!

Saw The Amazing Spiderman the other day, and loved it! This was partly inspired by some fantastic edits on Tumblr of Chris Colfer as Spiderman, and partly by a not-so-mild obsession with Klaine.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and I will endeavour to continue it as soon as possible!

(Also, I'm sorry for not updating the Hummel Twins for so long, but I have a terrible case of writer's block with that story, I just can't seem to find the inspiration to continue it! I will try my best to have it up before long, though.)


	2. Chapter 2

After some more googling, Kurt decided to go to his dad's colleague's laboratory, Oscorp, which was only a half-hour subway ride away from his house. One Sunday, Kurt decided to make the trip.

He entered the building and paused beside the reception desk, looking around the building. It was impressive: built with a lot of glass, and the most modern technology available.

"Uh, sir?" A voice cut into Kurt's thoughts. He turned around to see the receptionist looking at him like he was an idiot. "Are you one of our interns?"

"Uh, yeah!" Kurt nodded, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"You'll find yourself to your left," She said. When Kurt didn't move, she raised an eyebrow. "To your left. Your name badge."

"Oh, sorry!" Kurt said, stepping over picking a badge at random. He pinned the badge onto his jacket and smiled at the receptionist.

She looked at Kurt suspiciously. "Just go up those escalators and you'll find the other interns. Your tour guide will be with you shortly…_Rodrigo."_

Kurt looked down at his chest, where his nametag read 'Rodrigo Guevara'. "Adios!" Kurt said, smirking at the receptionist, before walking over and stepping onto the escalator. Assembled at the top were a group of nervous-looking people wearing jeans and shirts, as opposed to the people walking about wearing long, white jackets.

Kurt went and hovered with them. He looked down in mock confusion when a Hispanic boy was dragged out of the doors kicking and shouting. When another intern glanced over at him, Kurt just shrugged and pulled a face, pushing his glasses up his nose.

After a few more minutes when all of the interns were gathered, there was a new voice. "You must be my interns!" Said the unmistakable voice of Blaine Anderson.

All of the interns turned to gather around Blaine, while Kurt lurked at the back, behind a tall boy and a girl with very curly hair.

"I'm Blaine Anderson, and I'm a junior scientist here," Blaine said, smiling at the interns. Kurt had to concentrate quite hard on making the voice inside his head shut up as it helpfully said how cute Blaine looked in his long, white jacket and glasses.

After Blaine had given everyone some information on the building and the company as a whole, everybody followed him through to the main laboratory.

"Everybody, this is Paul Underbridge," Blaine said, putting his hand on another man's back. One of his arms had been amputated below the elbow, Kurt noted.

"You must be the interns," Paul said, smiling at everybody. Everyone nodded.

Paul raised an eyebrow.

"So tell me, if a number of a species have a specific problem which could be easily solved by a certain characteristic of another species, how might you solve it?" Paul asked the interns, looking around expectantly.

Somebody near the front raised their hand. "You could cross-breed the species'?" She suggested tentatively.

"Good, but not exactly what I was looking for," Paul said encouragingly, looking around to see if anybody else had any ideas. When there had been a couple more guesses, Kurt raised his hand slowly.

"Cross-species genetic engineering?" He asked. The other interns parted so that Paul could see him. Recognition flooded Blaine's face for a moment, before he composed himself.

"Very good," Paul said, nodding at Kurt. "How would that help?"

"Well, you would take the characteristic that would solve the problem, in cell form, and somehow implant that into the species with the problem," Kurt said, glancing over at Blaine once or twice as he spoke.

"Excellent," Paul said. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before snapping out of it. "I'd better get to work, but enjoy the rest of your tour," He said, "You're in very capable hands with Blaine here!"

Everyone laughed as Kurt tried to shoo away some very inappropriate images involving Blaine's _'very capable hands'_.

When Paul had gone, Blaine opened up a hologram presentation on one of the machines on cross-species genetic engineering. He stepped away, pulling Kurt gently by the arm with him.

"What are you doing here…Rodrigo?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurt's nametag.

Kurt just shrugged.

"Just…try and keep your head down, okay?" Blaine said, squeezing Kurt's arm where his hand still lay. "And stay with the group, if you can."

Kurt smiled at him. "I'll try my best," He said, following Blaine back to the group.

Blaine began explaining something to the group, but Kurt wasn't listening. He was fixated on Paul Underbridge, walking briskly out of the lab, looking over his shoulder every few steps.

As Blaine led the interns onwards, Kurt slipped away and followed Paul. He tailed him through endless, maze-like corridors, before Paul used a touch-screen device to open a door. Kurt watched him do it, and then walk through the door.

After only a couple of minutes, Paul came back out with another couple of scientists in tow. They shut the door firmly behind them, before walking away.

Kurt tiptoed over to the door, entering the code he saw Paul put in. The door slid open, and Kurt went inside quickly, shutting the door behind him. The laboratory was spacious, filled with unrecognisable equipment with long names.

Kurt finally found a door with the symbol he recognised from his dad's file on it. He pushed it open, revealing hundreds of spider's webs revolving around in between metal poles. The spiders were glowing an iridescent white, crawling around on their webs.

Despite not being particularly fond of spiders, Kurt stepped into the room, looking in awe at the spiders and the intricate patterns in the webs. He reached out and touched one of the webs, but froze when they stopped revolving.

Suddenly, the spiders began to fall directly onto Kurt. He shook them out of his hair and off his clothes. Thankfully, they started revolving again. Feeling skittish, Kurt sloped out of the room and back towards the laboratory.

He caught sight of Blaine and the other interns walking back into the lab where Kurt had left them. Blaine distracted the others with another hologram presentation, before stepping over to where Kurt was.

"And where have you been, Mr Guevara?" Blaine asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Bathroom break?" Kurt tried, smiling hopefully.

"I hope you didn't get yourself in any trouble," Blaine said sternly, folding his arms. Kurt didn't reply; there was a tickling sensation on the back of his neck. There was suddenly a painful pinching sensation.

"Are you alright?" Blaine asked as Kurt reached around to touch the back of his neck.

"I'm fine," Kurt muttered. There was a slight lump, but Kurt thought it was probably just a mosquito bite or something.

* * *

As he swiped his Metrocard to get on the subway home, Kurt concluded that it probably wasn't just a mosquito bite. His muscles ached, and his head spun. He climbed onto the train and lay back on an empty bench, using his backpack as a pillow.

Kurt was brought to half-consciousness by a cold, damp pressure on his forehead. He tried to ignore it, until an ice-cold drop made contact with his skin. Kurt leapt up, and suddenly found himself on the roof of the train. The other passengers were staring at him in shock.

Kurt dropped down from the roof straight onto his back, knocking the wind right out of him. He tried to catch his breath as he stood up. He groped for a pole, but ended up with his hand on a woman's shoulder.

"Are you crazy, man?" Somebody asked. Kurt tried to pull away, but he couldn't. With a bit of force, Kurt's hand came away from the woman's shoulder…with her shirt attached.

"What the hell, man, you some kinda pervert or somethin'?" The man asked, throwing his hands up at Kurt.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt said to the woman, trying to pry her shirt away from his hand. With the effort he stumbled and grabbed a pole, but when he tried to pull away, the pole was ripped out of his place and was attached to his hand.

"Man, what the hell is wrong with you, you a freakin'–"

The man had started walking towards Kurt, brandishing his fists. Kurt had thrown his hands up in defense, but knocked the guy out with the pole.

Other men in the train carriage advanced towards Kurt threateningly, and he tried to turn around to try and tell them that he didn't mean any harm, but he was hitting people left, right and centre with the pole.

* * *

When Kurt arrived home, Burt was standing in the hall with his arms folded.

"Where have you been?" He asked sternly.

"You didn't have to wait up," Kurt said, closing the door gently behind him.

"Yes, we did!" Carole said, standing up from where she was sitting on the stairs. "We were worried sick, Kurt!"

"I'm fine, I was just…out," Kurt said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

There was silence for a moment.

"As long as you're okay, I guess," Burt said, moving to stand beside Carole. "Just tell us next time you're planning to stay out late, okay?"

Kurt nodded.

"I promise," Kurt said, smiling at Burt.

"Good boy," Burt said, ruffling Kurt's hair as he passed.

* * *

**A/N**

Yippee more spidery goodness! Hope you enjoy it!

I hate spiders. Too many legs. But if getting bitten by one means developing superpowers…I'm willing to do it!

I hope you enjoy it! The next chapter should be up before long, because I'm super-excited to write it!

Thank you for the great reception for the first chapter, all of your favourites/follows/reviews mean such a lot!


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt's alarm clock was greeted with an unwelcome surprise the next morning. It started beeping at 6 o' clock on the dot, as it was supposed to, and was immediately smashed into thousands of tiny pieces in a flash of sparks.

After a moment, Kurt realised what he'd done. He sat up, staring at the smithereens littering the floor. He stared at his hands In shock, when he was distracted by a strange tapping noise, like somebody walking fast on a hardwood floor.

Kurt looked around confusedly, before catching sight of a small spider walking along his desk. Kurt's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He picked up a shoe and swatted the spider with it, before he was distracted by a buzzing that was at about the same volume as a hairdryer.

Turning round in a panic, Kurt caught sight of an ordinary-looking fly buzzing around the window. Sighing, he stepped over and opened the window to let it fly outside.

He thought back to the previous night on the subway; he had thought that had been a dream, but apparently not. He had fallen asleep in the clothes he had been wearing the day before, so he quickly changed into a simple t-shirt and jeans and wandered through to the bathroom.

He picked up his toothbrush and his toothpaste, and unscrewed the lid. When he tried to squeeze some of the toothpaste onto the brush…bam. There was suddenly a pool of red, blue and white goo on the mirror. Kurt could only look at it for a moment, before scraping some of the toothpaste from the mirror onto the toothbrush.

He went to flick the faucet handle around, and it flew off followed by a gushing stream of cold water.

"Oh my God," Kurt said, exasperated, as he tried to stem the flow of water. He tried to fit the handle back on, but it was stuck to his hand. Kurt leaned against the wall, trying to decide what to do. When he reached over to try and stop the water again, there was a towel rail attached to his hand.

He tried to shake it off, but got entangled in the shower curtain in the process. He had to pry the rail from his hand, dumping the tangled mess of curtain and rail in the bath. He jammed the handle into the faucet one more time, successfully stopping the flow of water.

He gently poked it around, scraping some more toothpaste onto his toothbrush and brushing his teeth.

* * *

Kurt was extra-careful that day at school, making a conscious effort not to touch anybody for fear of hurting them or…sticking to them.

Despite a whole day of being careful, Kurt couldn't resist a bit of fun in gym class. Puck and his jock buddies were playing basketball, when Puck threw the ball at Rachel Berry, an unpopular girl who was trying to paint a banner for the school Glee club. Her bucket of paint spilled all over the banner.

Kurt could sing, and had considered joining Glee more than once, but had decided against it when he came to be recognised for his photography.

Despite not being a member, Kurt could sympathise with the Glee kids. They were unpopular, outcasts and completely different from everyone else in the school; things that Kurt could easily relate to.

"You idiot, I've been working on that for hours!" Rachel yelled at Puck, throwing her paintbrush down to the floor.

Kurt walked over and picked the basketball up. "Don't worry about him, Rachel, his brain isn't developed enough for emotions," He said, smiling and walking towards Puck with the basketball.

"Dude, just give me the basketball," Puck said, holding his hand out.

"Just take it," Kurt said, holding the basketball towards Puck.

When Puck stepped towards him and was about to take the basketball, Kurt spun it around his back so that it was in his other hand within the space of a second.

Puck looked at him in confusion for a second, before reaching to take it again.

Kurt lifted the ball and spun it around Puck's head, and back into his other hand before Puck could even register what had happened.

"What the hell are you playing at, Hummel?" Puck asked threateningly, taking a step towards Kurt.

"Nothing!" Kurt said, unable to stop a grin from spreading across his face. "Just take it."

Puck took another, more hesitant step towards Kurt, before trying to take the basketball out of Kurt's outstretched hand. It wouldn't move. Glancing back at the other jocks, who were all looking incredulously at the show, Puck pulled harder but to no avail.

"Freakin' weirdo…" Puck muttered, shaking his head as he turned and began to walk away. Kurt threw the basketball at his back, from where it bounced straight back at him.

Puck turned and glared at him. Kurt smiled innocently back at him, bouncing the basketball.

Puck raised an eyebrow. Kurt sprinted forwards, still bouncing the ball. He jumped up towards the basket, unaware that every eye in the room was on him.

He shoved the ball through the basket, and his ears were met by an almost-deafening shattering noise. He fell to the floor amidst a pool of broken glass. He had broken the basketball hoop.

When he straightened up, everybody was staring at him in shock.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Kurt said to Burt as they walked away from the principal's office.

"For the thousandth time, I know," Burt replied, rolling his eyes. When they reached the front doors of the school, Burt took hold of Kurt's shoulder. "I had to change shifts at work to come and see you here, so I need you to pick up Aunt Carole at 4 o' clock, alright?" He said, squeezing Kurt's shoulder.

"I will," Kurt said, smiling at Burt.

"Good," Burt said, fixing Kurt with a stern glare. "I'll see you later."

* * *

After school, Kurt got home and saw his father's files sitting under his laptop. A wave of guilt overcame him, and after some googling, he picked them up and stuffed them into his backpack.

He was at Doctor Underbridge's house within half an hour. When Paul answered the door, Kurt smiled.

"Hello, sir," He said pleasantly.

"Oh…you were an intern at Oscorp the other day, weren't you?" Paul said. Kurt began to nod. "Sorry, but this is my home, I try to keep business limited to the office."

As he began to shut the front door, Kurt shoved his foot in the gap. "Please, I just wanted to give you something," He said,

When he was inside, Kurt stood swinging his arms, unsure of what to say.

"So, why are you here, exactly?" Paul asked, looking at Kurt speculatively.

"I'm Richard Hummel's son," Kurt blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Paul's eyes widened. "Kurt…" He muttered, recognition dawning on his face. "You look just like him," He commented. Kurt smiled, looking down and pushing his glasses further up his nose. "So what did you need?" Paul asked, sounding friendlier.

"I wanted to give you these," Kurt said, pulling his dad's files out from his bag.

Paul took them, leafing through them. "Thank you, Kurt…" He said, sounding awe-struck. "Say, you wouldn't happen to want to come down to the lab after school to help me out?" Paul said, smiling warmly at Kurt.

"Sure, yeah!" Kurt smiled and nodded, pulling his bag back over his shoulders.

* * *

Later on, Kurt walked home, a feeling of euphoria over him. He was going to be following in his dad's footsteps, working with one of the most advanced scientists in the world.

The happiness evaporated as soon as he walked into the house, though. Burt was waiting for him at the door, arms folded and eyes narrowed.

"Did you forget something this afternoon?" Burt asked, fixing Kurt with a stare.

Kurt was silent.

"I believe I told you to pick up your aunt at 4 o' clock," Burt said.  
Kurt gasped. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't…I had other things…" He stammered, his eyes wide.

"Kurt, I told you to do this one simple little thing," Burt said. "And you didn't do it."

"I know, Uncle Burt, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot and I didn't see the time," Kurt said, trying to reason with his uncle.

"Your aunt had to walk home in the dark after waiting for you," Burt said angrily, almost shouting.

Carole stood up from the sofa in the living room. "Burt, it's okay!" She said. "I can look after myself!"

"But you shouldn't have to!" Burt cried. "Kurt, your father used to have a saying. A man's responsibility is his priority."

Kurt stayed silent, staring fixedly at the white tips of his dark blue Converse.

"You've really disappointed me tonight, Kurt." Burt said.

"I know, I already said I was sorry!" Kurt said, beginning to get exasperated.

"Well sometimes sorry isn't good enough!" Burt cried.

"Burt, it's fine," Carole said, trying to console her husband.

"No, it isn't," Burt said, glaring at Kurt.

"I'm going out," Kurt said, glaring at Burt before turning towards the door.

"Where do you go at this time of night?" Burt asked incredulously, throwing his arms out. "You go out in the mornings, and don't get home until the late hours of the night, when you eat twice your weight in food before falling asleep in your clothes and then just repeating the process!"

"Well maybe it's time to change things up a bit, I'm going out again!" Kurt said. He opened the door and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. The glass in the door shattered. Kurt turned to see Carole with a hand on her heart, and Burt with his arm around her.

Before anyone could say anything else, Kurt walked away.

* * *

Kurt arrived at a 24-hour shop. He put a bottle of Diet Coke on the counter, and threw some money beside it.

"Not enough." The cashier said shortly.

"Pardon?" Kurt asked, an eyebrow raised.

"You're 2 cents short," The cashier said. "You need more money."

"I don't have any more money." Kurt told him, rolling his eyes.

"Then you can't have the drink," The cashier said, pushing the money back towards Kurt.

"It's 2 cents, can't you just give it to me?" Kurt cried.

"That's not how I roll," The cashier said, shaking his head.

Kurt groaned, grabbing his money and shoving it in his pocket. He began to walk out of the shop, when another man arrived at the cash register to buy a six-pack of beer.

"Could I get a bag for this?" The man asked after giving the cashier his money. When the cashier's back was turned, he grabbed as much money from the cash register as he could. When he saw Kurt watching, he raised a finger to his lips and threw him the bottle of Coke.

Kurt walked out, numbly staring at the Coke. He was across the road when he saw the man run out of the shop, followed by the cashier.

"Go after him!" The cashier called to Kurt.

"That's not how I roll," Kurt called back, shrugging exaggeratedly.

Kurt walked along the street a bit further, ignoring the yells of the cashier echoing down the street. He opened his Coke, taking a sip.

There was an ear-shattering bang.

Kurt dropped the bottle of Coke in surprise, looking across the street just in time to see a familiar man in a baseball cap falling to the ground.  
He paled.

Kurt crossed the empty road numbly, his sense of dread growing as he neared the man lying on the street.

He knelt beside his Uncle Burt, who was clearly unconscious, blood pouring steadily from a wound in his torso.

"Uncle Burt…" Kurt whimpered, taking his hoodie jacket off and pressing it against the wound, trying to stop the blood flow.

He blinked hard, trying to stop the tears that were suddenly falling. He raised his hands to try and wipe the tears from his face, but his hands were covered in warm, sticky blood.

Kurt let out a sob, trying in vain to shake Burt awake. "Someone call an ambulance!" He screamed, as loud as possible.

He stayed with Burt as long as he could, trying to stay calm and stop him losing too much blood.

* * *

Kurt arrived home in the dead of night – or the morning, depending on how you looked at it – having been abandoned on the street when the paramedics took Burt. Carole was talking to some police officers at the kitchen table, wiping her eyes every few seconds.

They stood up.

"We'll tell you if we have any new leads, ma'am," One of the police officers said, squeezing Carole's shoulder reassuringly.

"Thank you…" Carole muttered shakily, leaning against one of the chairs for support.

"Can I have that?" Kurt asked one of the police officers shakily, reaching for the artist's rendition of the criminal.

"Sure, son," The police officer said, handing the sketch to Kurt. "Another thing, he has a tattoo of a star on his left wrist."

"Thank you," Kurt muttered, trying to smile at the Police officer.

The police officer smiled sympathetically back at him, patting his shoulder twice before leaving.

"Oh, Kurt…" Carole said tearfully. Kurt stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Carole…" Kurt muttered, bending down to bury his face in her shoulder.

"Darling, it's not your fault," She said tearfully, rubbing his back.

Kurt couldn't bring himself to tell her that it really was his fault.

Later, when Kurt had gone to bed, Kurt picked up his phone which had been left on his desk. Displayed on the screen was a small message: '27 missed calls, 1 new message'.

Kurt picked his phone up, and listened to his message.

"Hey, Kurt…" Came Burt's voice. "I know things have been rough for you, but I just wanted to remind you that Carole and I are so proud of you. We love you so much, and…it feels like we don't remind you of that enough." Kurt put a hand over his mouth, trying not to cry and attract Carole's attention.

"I'm sorry for being angry at you earlier, Kurt. You're a teenager, and you like going out with your friends…just tell us next time, alright? We love you. Please come home."

Kurt gave up on trying not to cry and threw himself on his bed, sobbing into his pillow.

* * *

**A/N**

Sitting here trying not to cry while my parents are in the room.

What was meant to be a short, funny chapter turned into _this. _Over 2500 words of angst. Sorry.

I don't even know what to say, except thank you for all your favourites/follows/reviews. I say it a lot, but each one truly does mean so much to me.


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